


Be Alright

by shereadsthestars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 90's Fashion, Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Flirting, Caring Supportive Cas, Cas has zero chill, Dean in Glasses, Dean is awestruck, Dean's POV, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Just a ton of fluff, Light Angst, M/M, POV Alternating, Popular Castiel, Schmoop, Shy Dean, Sweet Castiel, and boys being cute and in like, awkward boys being awkward, cause you know, hand holding, im talking the phones with long curly cords and junk, not a lot of plot going on here, old school phone calls, set in the late 90's, will add tags when updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 15,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shereadsthestars/pseuds/shereadsthestars
Summary: Describe your partner in five words.Dean stares at the line of text, fingers poised motionless along the edge of the white paper it's printed on, and wills his brain to supply him with something other than: perfect.Because he can't just write perfect.I mean hecould, but that would be weird.It would be weird because he's been at this school for a grand total of three weeks, and his 'partner' (desk mate) has only heard him speak twice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and I do not own the characters of Castiel or Dean Winchester.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

_Describe your partner in five words_.

Dean stares at the line of text, fingers poised motionless along the edge of the white paper it's printed on, and wills his brain to supply him with something other than: perfect.

Because he can't just write perfect.

I mean he _could_ , but that would be weird.

It would be weird because he's been at this school for a grand total of three weeks, and his 'partner' (desk mate) has only heard him speak twice.

And that's not even in actual conversation. That's the bare basics of providing his name and confirming that yes, please, he _would_ like to use the pro-offered sharpener when the lead snapped on his pencil mid-quiz.

But his lack of vocal expression has nothing to do with his partner. Or this class. Or even this school.

He just, doesn't talk.

He'd _like_ to. But he can't.

Or more so: he can't bring himself to.

Whether it be from the crippling possibility he might make a complete fool of himself, or the fact that he has a tendency to stutter and mumble when all attention is on him, he's not sure.

Either way, it's a hassle he'd given up trying to overcome a long time ago, and has since been happy to just be an impartial bystander to the things going on around him.

Until now, that is.

With this special 'workshop' designed to not only gain a better perspective of others, but also themselves, forcing him into the limelight.

He should just write perfect and be over with it.

It's not like there's a chance that his partner would actually want to get to know him anyway.

Let alone _hang out_ with him.

There's no chance for friendship, so what does it matter if he comes across as weird?

 _You_ do _have to sit next to him for the rest of the semester_ , his conscious chimes in, causing him to shift in his seat.

Yea, that _would_ be awkward.

Probably best to avoid any situations that may make the duration of his senior year more difficult than it has to be.

Okay, so.. he glances over, and is embarrassed to admit that his heart flips when he see's his partner's sheet is already half done.

 _He's taking this seriously_.

And, ..how does he have so many things to say about Dean?

He doesn't even-

"Alright, class," their teacher calls from the front of the room. "Five more minutes before sharing with each other."

Shit.

Okay. _So_.

Dean turns the paper so it's at an angle, and drops his pencil to the blank space under the directions, scribbling quickly with the first things that come to mind.

1\. nice

2\. smells good

3\. smart

4\. popular

5\. intimidating

Then, he starts scratching in below the second line of directions. But not quite as quickly as those above.

 _Describe_ yourself _in five words_.

1\. quiet

2\. awkward

3\. geek

4\. four-eyes

5\. bookworm

Almost as soon as he's finished writing, their teacher clears her throat. "Alright, class. I'd now like you to exchange your papers with your partners', then take the remainder of the hour to reflect on your findings. I think you'll find that how we view ourselves, is often vastly different than how those around us view us."

Murmurs break out through the room, and Dean shifts again before looking up from his worksheet.

Cas is staring at him, and there's a small smile on his lips that makes Dean's insides squirm.

"I was worried for a second there. You weren't writing anything," Cas says playfully, _softly_ , then slides his paper across the desk.

Dean huffs, his cheeks heating, and slips Cas _his_ paper in attempt to get those bright, appraising blue eyes off of him. "Yea.. I.."

Cas' smile turns understanding, and he wastes no time lifting the paper- averting his gaze.

Dean doesn't want to see Cas' reaction to what he had to say, so he drops his own gaze to the sheet below him.

It's not fair the way his heart picks up significantly in tempo when he reads the first line:

1\. intriguing

And, it's not fair the way it only continues to do so until Dean is convinced it's going to pound right out of his chest.

2\. thoughtful

3\. endearing

4\. smart

5\. beautiful

He blinks at the last line, wondering if Cas had added that as a joke- as a means to fuck with him. Then, his stomach twists and sinks when he realizes that's what they all are.

A joke.

Because there's no way that high status, social butterfly _Cas Novak_ thinks he's intriguing. Or thoughtful. Or endearing, smart, and _beautiful_.

There's no freaking way.

Dean immediately feels like an idiot for allowing himself to get excited. For letting the rush of butterflies wash over him.

For getting hopeful.

He's just about to close his eyes and pray for the ground to open up beneath him to put him out of his misery when they fall on the first line of what Cas had written about _himself_.

1\. shy

Dean blinks. That can't..

2\. dorky

3\. introvert-at-heart (that counts as one word, right?)

4\. overrated

5\. invisible

 _What does_..

"You cheated," Cas says then, breaking Dean's train of thought before it can even fully form.

"What?" he asks, frowning in confusion.

"You used two words instead of one."

"I- where?"

Cas taps at the sheet, and Dean follows the movement, then flushes.

He obviously hadn't thought his answers through. Hadn't realized what he was writing.

But, when he looks up from the mortifying words, he's met with a blinding smile.

"You think I smell good?" Cas asks almost bashfully, and fuck if Dean's never heard/seen anything more gorgeous.

He swallows dryly. "You.."

The bell blares overhead at that moment, cutting him off and prompting them to both look up as if they'd be able to see the sound.

Cas huffs at the stupidity of such a thing, then scratches nervously at the side of his face.

Dean blushes harder.

"So, um," Cas says, glancing at the table. "As you probably gathered, I'd kinda like to get to know you."

Dean stares.

And when he doesn't say anything, Cas continues on as if there wasn't a lull at all. "I have these dumb movie nights at my house every Friday. And, it'd be cool if you came to one."

 _Today is Friday_.

"No pressure, though," Cas is quick to assure, pushing his chair back to gather his things. "It's just, my parents don't really mind. And we have a projector and stuff set up in the basement. Big couches. Beanbags. Snacks.."

He trails off, and if Dean didn't know any better, he'd say that Cas was getting flustered.

"Anyway, we usually start around eight- sometimes a bit later, but you can show up whenever you'd like. Well, any time after six. Cause, you know.. homework. Chores."

Dean has to work super hard to control his breathing when Cas bends over his now unoccupied chair to scrawl not only his address across the bottom of Dean's worksheet, but also his phone number.

They lock eyes briefly before Cas straightens, and Dean feels as if he's been launched into an alternate dimension.

"Like I said, no pressure," Cas repeats, hefting his bag further up his shoulder. "But it'd be cool if you showed."

Dean nods- at least he thinks he does, then watches as Cas skirts around the table and makes his way to the door.

It's not until their teacher steps into Dean's view that he realizes he's still sitting. "Is there something you needed to talk to me about, Mr. Winchester?"

"Oh, uh, n-no," he starts, rushing to gather his own things, and nearly knocks the chair on it's side as he does so. "I'm just gonna.. I'm gonna," he motions towards the door, "g-go."

He flushes again, and is grateful when she just smiles sympathetically at him before returning to her desk.

A beat later he's stepping into the busy hall; a freshly folded piece of paper lining his front pocket, and a strange sense of anxiety that he's never experienced before.

Cas Novak gave him his number.

Cas Novak, wants to know him.


	2. Chapter 2

"It's good that you're making friends," Dean's mom says once she stops her station wagon in front of Cas' house, idling before he gets out. "I know none of us were prepared for this move. I know it was hard on you. So.. I'm glad you're adjusting well."

Dean huffs, his hand resting on the handle. _Is_ he adjusting well?

Cause if it weren't for that dumb assignment earlier, he highly doubts he would be about to go into a movie night at Cas Novak's house right now.

Or if he would have even talked to Cas yet.

.. _yet_.

That's the real kicker, isn't it?

Because as much as Dean keeps trying to convince himself that it was just some strange coincidence or other unexplained phenomena that Cas had written those things, he can't help but let the meaning of them flood every one of his senses. Eat at his emotions.

That's actually why they're rolling up to 5322 Hickory Dr. almost half past eight.

As, not only did they take a wrong turn upon entering the quasi sub division, but Dean also spent more time than he's willing to admit mulling over himself in his closet mirror while a torrent of inner dialogue plagued him.

Made him doubt.

Which, in itself is just ridiculous because Dean has never in his eighteen years fussed over what he was wearing.

Never.

For any reason.

And especially not for a _guy_.

But, there he was, staring at the same slightly baggy burgundy/navy/white striped t-shirt and relaxed jeans he'd been wearing at school, and wondering if he should change into something more.. _not_ what he was wearing at school.

Ugh. He's still embarrassed about it. So he coughs to hide the threatening blush so his mom won't think it's from something else.

"I'm glad too," he says to her, pulling the handle to open the door. "I'll uh.. I'll call you when the movie is over."

"Okay, hunny," she says with a soft smile.

"Thanks for the ride."

"Of course. Have fun."

He nods, peeking back into the cab after he steps out. "I will."

He's not so sure he will, but it's better to be optimistic, right?

It's better to not think about how his stomach is twisting uncomfortably and he's breaking out into a slightly hot, very anxious sweat.

The door slams shut with a muted, metallic snap, and he watches as she pulls away from the curb, then drives off into the slowly encroaching purple blue of dusk.

Then, he turns around, and stares at the modest brown brick bungalow- at it's trimmed hedges and nonthreatening mid-century front door.

 _No going back now_.

Heaving a not at all calming breath, he treks up the smooth, manicured walkway, and stops just on the single ledge before raising a finger to ring the doorbell.

The singsong of a melodic tune can be heard from outside, and he cringes at the thought that he might have interrupted the movie.

Fuck.

He should have knocked.

He should have-

The maple wood door swings open, and a middle aged woman smiles at him through the glass of the storm door.

"Hi, are you one of Cas' friends?" she asks when she cracks it open.

He nods.

"I believe they just started, so you shouldn't have missed much," she pushes it open wider, ushering him inside.

"O-okay."

Then, she guides him through the house (it's super cozy) to the basement stairs, and leaves him to fend for himself after another friendly smile and offer to help himself to whatever he needs.

He hovers at the top of the steps, looking down the darkened well that's echoing hints of music and dialogue that's clearly from the movie, but also other voices, too.

He wonders briefly if Cas told his friends that he invited him. If they're expecting him.

Oh my god- what if that's why they just started?

What if they were waiting for him?

He should have called earlier to confirm he'd be here.

But, he didn't want to chance having one of Cas' parents answer and get stuck on the line stuttering his way through until Cas picked up.

Cause in what world would that be any better?

Shit.

He takes another 'calming' breath, then forces himself to descend the stairs.

He's not sure what he was expecting when he reached the bottom, but what he's met with isn't it.

It's dark, for sure, but he can still make out a general description of the room; finished, with paneled walls and two huge, squishy looking couches and a handful of XL beanbags.

There's about ten bodies occupying each of them in various stages of lounge- a few of which Dean recognizes from school, the rest he's never seen before. And there, in the corner of the couch furthest to the wall, is Cas.

His legs are folded up in front of him as he leans against the arm of the couch at an angle, and yea, there's a girl sitting next to him, but it doesn't appear to be anything other than that: just sitting.

He doesn't seem to notice Dean's presence at first, but when he does, the way his face lights up makes Dean _really_ grateful it's so dark.

He blushes bright, and hard.

"Told you he'd come," someone says, which makes Dean flush even _more_. Jesus.

He opens his mouth, tongue working towards a slew of words all fighting to be said at once, but of course, none of them come out.

So he ducks for cover in the lone, unoccupied beanbag before any additional attention can focus on him.

His heart is beating so freaking hard that he doesn't hear the movie right away, but once his eyes adjust to the screen, he can't help but smile.

 _Clueless_.

He settles in after that, glad to find that everyone else has done the same. But, then, about ten minutes later, there's a rustling as someone up-heaves themselves from their spot.

It's Cas, and he doesn't even glance down at Dean as he shuffles past.

Dean's heart starts to thump again- unevenly this time as his brain supplies him with an array of possibilities of why that could be, of why Cas ignored him, when Cas disappears behind a door that looks like it leads to a small bathroom.

Oh.

 _Stop worrying, you big dumdum. He invited you here. He smiled so big when you came in. Chill the fuck out_.

Right. Chill.

When Cas emerges shortly after going in, (super shortly, like.. what did he even do in there?) he _does_ make eye contact on his way back to the couch, and even smiles again- softer, and more.. private.

Though when he tries to resume his previous position, it doesn't go so well as the girl snickers from where she's stretched out, and tells him, "Move your feet lose your seat."

"Are you serious?" Cas whispers, earning a thwack to the back of the leg from the guy he's hovering over.

Dean forces his gaze to train on the screen then, not wanting to come off as nosy or weird, and tries his best to focus on the film he's already seen at least half a dozen times.

A moment later though, that proves to be a pointless feat, because the side of his beanbag dips in when Cas plops down beside it.

"I'm glad you came," Cas whispers, leaning in close to be heard; his breath warm and sweet on the side of Dean's face.

Every single millimeter of Dean's insides flip, and he turns his head just enough to glance at down Cas.

Fuck.

He's so-

"I was worried you wouldn't."

"I- yea.." Dean huffs, closing his eyes against the onslaught of feelings at having Cas so close- as he's yet to move away. "We got lost."

Cas snorts, then bites his bottom lip to stifle the sound. "Really?"

Dean nods, smile twitching at his own lips. "Navigating off Summerset is kinda tricky when you're not from here."

Cas' expression turns thoughtful, and for a second Dean thinks that Cas looks like he wishes they weren't in the middle of a movie. So he could ask for elaboration.

So they could talk.

But, obviously-

"Will you two shut your traps," another voice says, causing a few scattered laughs to sprout around them.

Cas does that cute scrunchy thing with his face again, then twists to toss a throw pillow at whoever the culprit of the sneer was.

They snort in amusement, and mutter a _thanks_ before Cas turns back to him. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't really have to, because his eyes relay it all:

 _Later_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Thank you so much! I honestly wasn't expecting to get such a positive response, let alone so soon off. You guys are rad and make wanting to write the rest of this super exciting! The chapter number may change, as I have a habit of doing so when things get a bit longer than I had planned (this is kinda doing that- cause I totally intended to have the remaining chapters written sort of like a drabble) but, YEA! :D <3


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as the end credits start scrolling, everyone shifts and stands, stretching with low groans of satisfaction after sitting for so long.

And, you know, Dean just assumes that that's it. That that's movie night, and is ready (though reluctant) to call his mom to come get him.

But, apparently he's very wrong, because Deecan, who Dean recognizes from his Lit class, strides over to the projector in socked feet whilst scratching at his stomach leisurely. "What next? I'm kinda feelin' horror. Jaws, maybe?"

And, _oh_.

That all too familiar, slightly sick, mortifying sensation prickles the back of Dean's neck. Then, when his stomach tightens, he seriously regrets even coming because how is he supposed to explain that he can't hang around for another movie, cause his mom is probably about to go to bed soon, and is just waiting for his call.

So that means he wouldn't have a ride, and _definitely_ wouldn't be able to stay.

Especially for another movie that clearly won't be starting for a while, if the way everyone is shuffling about to refill their drinks and use the restroom is anything to go by.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

"What do you think?" Cas asks, still perched on the floor beside him. "Do you like horror?"

"Oh," Dean shifts, face heating even though he uses every ounce of his willpower to stop it from doing so. "I uh- I don't think I can stay that much longer."

Cas' face falls, and Dean decides right then that it's not a look he's a fan of.

Not at all.

"Are you.."

"It's just my mom," Dean assures before he can finish. "We ah.. we only have one car now, a family car, so she- she dropped me off. I'm supposed to call her after. I wasn't-"

"Oh," Cas says, sitting up straighter. "I can bring you home."

Dean blinks.

He hadn't..

"Cas do you have more of those little square pretzels?" one of the guys Dean doesn't know asks, and Cas turns to address him.

"I think so. There should be some in the pantry. Second shelf from the top?"

"Cool, thanks," the guy says, then disappears up the stairs, just like half the other people had.

Then, Cas' attention is back on him. ".. if you wanted to stay, I mean. I can bring you."

"I.."

"It's totally up to you, though. You know, no pressure.. or whatever."

Dean swallows, then ultimately nods. Because he really _does_ what to stay. Bad. "Okay."

"Yea?" Cas beams, and _that_ is a look Dean can get on board with.

It's a good look.

A gorgeous-

"Do you need to use the phone?"

"Uhm," Dean scratches the side of his face. "Yea, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Cas says, pushing himself up from the floor. "Follow me."

That's how Dean ends up tagging behind Cas not only through the crowded kitchen, but the dining room and front rooms as well- which are all darkened now, as his parents have most likely turned in for the night.

They stop in the living room, and Cas flicks a small table lamp on, then detaches a beige receiver from it's base.

The cord is tangled, and he huffs. "My sister spilled soda on it, so the three sticks, but other than that.."

Dean smiles, an easy.. _natural_ thing, and nods again. "Thanks."

"No problem," Cas says, returning the smile. Then, he shifts, rustling the back of his hair. "I'll um.. I'll see you downstairs."

"Okay."

Dean waits until Cas has retreated around the corner before dialing his home number, and it only rings twice before his mom picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hey mom."

"Oh, hey sweetie. Are you ready for me to come get you?"

Dean ducks his head, nudging at the soft, plush gray carpeting with his toe. "Um.. not necessarily."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, everything is fine," he assures. "Just, they're gonna watch another movie and-"

"And you want to stay."

He huffs. "Yea."

"I have the morning shift, hunny.." she says remorsefully, and he can hear shuffling on the other end. "But if you really want-"

"Oh, I'll have a ride. That's why I was calling. To tell you you didn't have to worry about it."

She's silent for a minute. Then, "They're not drinking, are they?"

He closes his eyes. "No, they're not drinking. It's pretty mellow, actually. Tiny pretzels, twizzlers.."

She laughs softly, and he smiles at the sound of it. "Okay, hunny. Just, be safe. And have fun, okay?"

"I will."

"I'll leave the porch light on for you. And don't be too late, alright?"

"I won't. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night."

"Night, hunny."

He hangs up, and switches the lamp off, then weaves his way back through the house. The kitchen is now abandon, and he knows it's stupid.. but the fact of that makes his skin prickle uneasily again.

 _Get it together_.

But when he reaches the bottom of the steps, it's a little harder to do when he notes that his beanbag has been taken.

And, so has the corner of the couch of which Cas had originally been curled on.

Dean stays paused in the doorway until his eyes adjust enough to scan the rest of the seating, which is when Cas waves him over from the opposite couch- flagging him to the empty spot directly beside him.

 _Oh my god_.

Dean swallows, then slowly makes his way through the mess of people.

"Everything cool?" Cas asks once he sits down, leaning in close again so as to be heard over the opening trailers of the older film.

Dean nods, turning his face a fraction to glance at Cas. "Yea, thank you."

Cas smiles, and Dean's not sure if he just imagines the way Cas' eyes dip to his mouth or not, but either way, being subjected to such a radiant smile at this close of a proximity is sort of debilitating.

"I'm really glad you came," Cas repeats himself from earlier, then shifts ever so slightly so that their thighs become flush to one another. "And I'm glad you're staying."

"Me too.." Dean whispers, aware that at least two of Cas' friends are in tune to what they're saying, and he swallows back the rush of embarrassment before it can make his voice falter. He's been doing so good so far.

Huh.

.. he's been doing _so_ good.

This realization hits him much like he'd guess a mac truck would hit a watermelon, and he has to clear his throat to disguise the hiccup in his breath.

Fuck.

 _Fuck fuck fu_ -

"Movie's starting now, so everyone shut up," Deecan says, and even though there's a lightness to his tone, Dean and Cas were the only one's talking, so Dean blushes regardless of his best efforts to avoid doing so.

"You shut up," Cas retorts with a smile, then grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl propped in front of them and tosses it at Deecan's head.

"Asshole," Deecan laughs- as does everyone else.

Even Dean.

"Sorry about him," Cas whispers a few beats later, much _much_ closer than he's been yet, and _a lot_ quieter. "I think he's just jealous."

Dean frowns, turning towards Cas again enough to see his face more clearly. He mouths, "Why?"

The corners of Cas' lips quirks, and he leans in until they're practically brushing against Dean's ear. ".. because I like you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, totally gonna be longer. :D


	4. Chapter 4

_But you don't even know me_ , Dean wants to say- _should_ say. But he doesn't.

He doesn't say anything.

He just.. shifts awkwardly and ducks his head. Because how the hell does someone respond to something like that?

How does _he_ look _Cas Novak_ in the eye and say, _I like you too_?

How?

Especially when it's dark, and they're not alone, and they're so close that not only can he smell Cas' laundry detergent, but he can literally _feel_ it when Cas tenses.

"I'm sorry," Cas whispers hurriedly, physically attempting to move away but unable to do so as he's wedged between Dean and the end of the sofa. "That was really forward. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," Dean whispers back just as quickly, reaching out more in reflex than anything, and laying his hand over Cas' wrist in a reassuring manner. "You weren't-"

I mean, he _was_ , but.. that's beside the point.

Dean doesn't want Cas to think he's not interested.

Because he is.

He's _very_ interested.

He's just..

"I," he starts, unsure of how to poise the remainder of that sentence, when a pillow clips him in the shoulder and lands in Cas' lap.

"I can't hear what Brody's saying," Deecan says, prompting a fresh bout of sniggers from everyone to fill the space.

Cas grabs the pillow and leans forward to chuck it back. "You already know everything he says."

"Yea, so," Deecan responds almost childishly, and if Dean weren't nearly having an internal meltdown from Cas being pressed so firmly against his side, he would definitely recoil from the harsh undertone of Deecan's words.

Were he and Cas like-

"Very eloquent," Cas huffs, then falls back into place. Deecan mumbles something else, but Dean can't understand what it is.

And that's partly because the movie picks up in suspense at that moment, but mostly because Cas twists his forearm, thus meaning where Dean's fingers were still partially wrapped around his wrist, they're now partially in his _palm_.

_Oh god_.

_Ohhhh god._

Mayday! Mayday!

_Houston, we have a problem_.

He panics, unsure of what to do or how to act cause he's never been in this situation before and flushes furiously. He's just about to move his hand away when Cas pulls his elbow back and slips his fingers _right in between Dean's_.

_Jesus freaking Christ_.

He's holding Cas' hand.

He stares down at their interlocked fingers, blood pounding loudly in his ears, then forces his gaze upwards to lock with Cas'.

He can't decipher the expression staring back at him- well, at least not into one, defining thing. But overall Cas looks super, _super_ uncertain.

Worried, almost. Hesitant.

"Is this okay?" he mouths more than actually asks, all while keeping his fingers lax in case Dean say no and tug his own away.

It makes a fresh burst of butterflies surge inside Dean's sternum, and he swallows.

Then nods. ".. yea."

The smile he gets in response is enough to warm him to his absolute core, and he pretty much has to clamp his jaw shut in order to stop himself from making an incredibly embarrassing sound when Cas melts into him.

He carefully closes his fingers around the back of Cas' hand, then relishes in the way Cas does the same.

"Your hands are so soft," Cas says against his ear, making him shiver again.

He smiles, and turns his head _just_ so. ".. so are yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the Super Schmoop commence! :D
> 
> I just took the total chapter number off, cause I don't know if it's going to have one more, or.. _more_ more. Either way, it's going to be longer. Thanks so much for all your wonderful comments! It means a ton and you guys are awesome!! *hearts hearts hearts*


	5. Chapter 5

So, sweaty palms are totally a thing, in case anyone was wondering.

But miraculously, as gross as that is, it still doesn't seem to deter Cas from holding Dean's hand.

Seeing as how he not only holds on steadily for the remaining duration of the movie, but does so again on the climb up the stairs afterwards, then in the car ride following that, and is even doing so now, as they sit idling at Dean's curb.

"Is it weird that I don't want to say goodnight yet?" Cas says, causing Dean's heart to stutter for the umpteenth time this evening.

"No."

Because he doesn't want to say goodnight yet, either. Or ever, really.

Being with Cas is kind of addicting.

Cas smiles.

Then, he twists their hands to examine the back of Dean's. A beat passes before he speaks again. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

Dean shakes his head, then clears his throat. "No."

Another smile.

"Would you maybe wanna go to a party with me? In the valley?"

Dean frowns. That's not exactly his forte, obviously, but.. "What's the valley?"

"Oh," Cas says, eyes still glued to their twined fingers. "It's just a neighborhood in the next town over. High class. Big houses."

"Oh," Dean parrots, his own gaze dropping to their fingers. The base of his neck is beginning to prickle. "I.."

"I totally get it if you don't want to though. Seeing as how-"

"No," Dean interjects, shifting in his bucket seat. Cas drives a little caramel brown Pinto with black racing stripes. It's very suiting. "It sounds fun. I just.. you sure your friends wouldn't mind?"

Now Cas frowns. "Why would they mind?"

Okay, maybe Dean should have clarified.

He's mainly referring to Deecan.

So he says as much.

"Oh," Cas says again, then shifts himself. "We used to be really close. Like, best friends. Practically inseparable."

"But.."

"But last summer he tried to kiss me, and I wasn't into it, so we just kinda.."

Cas ends with a shrug, and Dean pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

The prickling intensifies.

Another beat passes, then, "I mean, we're good now," Cas continues. "At least I thought we were. Tonight he was a major dick, and I'm sorry for that. You didn't deserve it."

"It's okay," Dean says, because he doesn't know what else _to_ say. "I get it."

Cas is quiet for a moment, almost contemplating, then he squeezes Dean's hand. "Actually, you know what. Screw the party. How would you like to go to dinner with me?"

Dean's eyes widen. "Huh?"

"On a date," Cas elaborates. "Just me and you. No interruptions. No distractions."

"Um, yea.." Dean nods, fighting against the wave of butterflies threatening to rip from his throat. "That- yea, that sounds great."

"Yea?" Cas grins, and it's nearly blinding.

Which is really something, seeing as how the only light pilfering through the windshield is that of the dim streetlight overhead.

"Yea."

"Great," Cas reiterates, then laughs at himself for repeating what Dean just said. "So, can I have your number then? And I can call before I leave, or whatever?"

Oh man, here come those butterflies. Full force.

Dean swallows. "Sure. Do you, uh.. have a pen?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but, let's see if this moves things along ;D


	6. Chapter 6

Despite wanting to- no, _planning_ on sleeping in, Dean wakes up bright and early with a stomach full of leaded bees.

Or wasps.

Pigeons.

Yea, there's definitely a swarm of pigeons batting around in there because that's the only way to explain how off kilter he feels.

Was last night even _real_?

Did he actually find the nerve within himself to not only go to Cas Novak's house (with a bunch of people he didn't know for squat, mind you), but also hold Cas' hand for _hours_ , then end up with a date for tonight?

It seems fake.

And implausible.

Because we're talking about _the_ Cas Novak here.

A guy who could have literally anyone. _Anyone_.

And he chooses to be interested in _Dean_ , of all people?

How does-

Dean shakes his head, hoping to right it.

Not to mention the fact that he has never done any of this before, at all, so he's not sure in the least how to proceed.

Like, does this mean he and Cas are _dating_ now? Or, _will_ be dating?

Does it mean there might be expectations to be met later as far as surpassing the hand holding, and leading onto kissing? Or, or.. possibly _more_?

Oh god.

He can't-

He flushes, and has to look down at the bathroom sink.

 _Steady yourself_.

It's not that he's opposed to the idea, he just-

_bdrinng bdrinng_

His head snaps up, and glances out into the hall, where the echo of the phone is reverberating up the staircase.

_bdrinng bdrinng_

What if it's-

No, it can't be.

It's too early.

Cas is probably still sleeping.

Most definitely sleeping.

But still, it _could_ be..

He dashes out the door, and barrels down the stairs, taking them two at a time, then nearly falls on his ass when his socks slip on the freshly mopped linoleum of the kitchen.

"Hello?!" he pants into the handset, then almost immediately cringes at how belligerent he sounds.

If it really is Cas, he's going to wonder what the hell-

"Dean?" his mom asks, concern clear in her voice as it raises an octave on the end. "Is everything okay? Why do you sound so frantic?"

He deflates instantly. "Oh, hi," he huffs. "Yea, everything's fine. I'm just, I was upstairs. I thought-"

"Are you expecting a call right now?"

He pauses. "No, I was-"

He sucks in deep breath, and releases it slowly, trying again. "No. Not til later, anyway."

His mom hums in thought, then he can hear her shift. Static fills the speaker. "Okay. I was just calling to ask if you could maybe cut the grass today? It's getting kind of long and I don't want our neighbors to get the wrong impression so soon off."

Dean leans against the counter, and wraps an arm around himself. His sleep shirt is baggy, and has a hole under the armpit.

He nods, even though she can't see him, then clears his throat. "Yea, I can. There's gas in the garage, right?"

"Shit," she says, then corrects herself, "I mean shoot."

Dean snorts.

"I forgot to check," she continues as if he hadn't made a noise. "It's probably empty, so nevermind. I'll just take care of it tomorrow."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Mom I have my bike. I'll just ride it to the gas station. It's not that far."

"I don't want to make you do that though, because it's not urgent. I'll just fill it later. After work."

"It's like six blocks. I'll get it," he insists. "You've got enough to worry about."

She's quiet for a moment, and he knows the exact second she relents. "Okay, fine," she sighs. "Thank you, hunny. I'll be home around five, alright?"

"Uh huh. I'll see you later."

"Kay, love you."

He begins to move the phone away from his ear after saying _love you too_ , then puts it right back when her voice comes through again in the form of _oh, hey!_.

"Yea?"

"Eat the rest of that lasagna, will you? I don't want to throw it out, and already brought some for lunch myself."

Dean smiles. "Yea, I'll finish it."

Her smile is evident when she says her goodbye, then the line goes silent.

He hangs the phone on the receiver, and stares at the side of the fridge. Only partly seeing it.

It's already littered with a menagerie of take-out fliers, along with a few mismatched postcards.

The sight of them doesn't help his already mess of a jumbled emotional state, so he pushes away from the counter, a bit hastily, and trudges through the house to return to his room.

He might as well get a start on his day, right? If there's anything he needs at the current moment in time, it's to get his mind off things.

And biking six blocks in the bright of day will surely do the trick.

At least, he hopes it will.

We'll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it got a bit longer, so Ü


	7. Chapter 7

It totally does the trick, and by the time Dean has mowed the lawn, showered, then unpacked a few more boxes in his room, it's almost time for his mom to be home.

He still hasn't heard from Cas, but he's trying really hard not to read too much into that, because 'dinner' isn't always a specific, set time.

Restaurants don't close until like, eight anyway. Right? Sometimes even nine. So, it's fine.

He's got nothing to worry about. It's stupid to let himself get worked up over-

_bdrinng bdrinng_

He freezes, and glances towards his cracked door.

_bdrinng bdrinng_

Then he drops the box in his hands, and makes a mad dash for the stairs just like he had this morning.

Though this time he's sure to heave a large, grounding breath before grasping the receiver, and is immensely pleased when his tone comes out even.

Calm.

.. ish.

"Hello?"

"May I speak to Dean, please?"

His heart stutters.

 _It's Cas_.

And he's so.. polite?

Dean smiles.

"This is him."

"Oh," Cas huffs, his blinding smile making the word sound like audible sunshine. "Hey."

"Hi."

"Sorry I didn't call earlier." There's some shuffling. "I uh, I almost did. But then I thought it might be _too_ early, so I tried to wait. And that was kinda hard to do. So, I figured this was close enough without seeming pushy."

Dean smiles wider.

 _Easy_.

Then he leans against the counter, free palm bracing it at his side.

"You wouldn't have been pushy."

"No?"

"Uh uh."

"So then I could have called when I first woke up, and you would have been okay with it?"

The pigeons are showing their faces again.

Or, wings.

Relentlessly.

"Yea."

Cas hums, and there's some more shuffling.

Dean can picture him standing in the sitting room, holding the phone with sticky numbers to his ear, and nudging at the plush carpet with his socked toe.

Just like Dean had done the night before.

"I was actually hoping you _would_ call sooner."

And, did he _really_ just say that?

He thinks he did. But he can't be sure.

Cas hums again, happily, and yup, he totally did.

He said that.

 _Oh my god_.

"I'll remember that next time," Cas states, thus successfully turning Dean's wide, easy smile into a full-fledged grin.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

What is happening?!

Cas makes this little huff/preening noise, and it's such great sound that Dean sort of wants to bottle it up, and save it for rainy days. "So, there's this place downtown, that's kinda kitschy and usually has live music on the weekends. They serve really good burgers, and have all these eclectic house drinks that come in funky glasses. I was thinking we could go there tonight, if you wanted. What do you say?"

 _That that sounds fucking incredible_.

"Uh, I think that'd be awesome. Yea. Let's do that."

"Okay," Cas says, smile ever present in the curl of his tongue. "I'll be there around six? Is that enough time for you to be ready?"

Dean nods, then flushes. _He can't see you, ya nerd!_ "Yea. I can be ready by then."

"Cool. So I'll see you then, then."

Cas stammers a bit embarrassingly before managing an awkward _bye_ , then it's nothing but a fuzzy silence filling Dean's ear.

He listens to it for a few beats, and suddenly, a whole new fresh wave of thought forces it's way into the forefront of his brain:

_What the hell is he supposed to wear?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ


	8. Chapter 8

After an incredibly grueling, somewhat nerve-wracking twenty minutes of ransacking his meager wardrobe, and the helpful but oh-so-mortifying input of his mom (who stood wholly amused, if a bit proud, in his doorway the entire time), Dean finally settled on an off-white, wannabe gray short sleeved henley and his nicest jeans.

At the last minute, almost on impulse, he even decided to spray himself once with a tiny bottle of cologne he rarely wore, but generally reserved for special occasions.

Because, well, a date with Hill Mount High's beautiful, preening social butterfly Cas Novak surely constituted as a special occasion, right?

Absolutely.

That's what he told himself then, and is continuing to do so now as he waits anxiously by the front door for Cas to arrive.

"Do you have the number of where you'll be tonight?" his mom asks in passing, a mug of steaming tea in her hand.

She isn't in her pajamas yet, but looks as if she's about to be once he leaves.

"Uh, no," he says, and wonders idly to himself if that's something he should have inquired about earlier. He hadn't even bothered to get the name of the place, too ecstatic to just have a set destination. "I didn't think to ask."

His mom hums, then pauses to lean on the banister of the stairs. There's an old cardigan draped over top of it. "I guess it doesn't really matter. You're more than capable to take care of yourself. And you know who to call if you need a way out. Or a ride."

Dean nods, chewing on his bottom lip in consideration. He doesn't really think he'll need to resort to his 'emergency' contacts, and says as much.

She hums again, then nods. Once, to the side. "So will I be able to meet him? Or are you going to hurry out the door the second he pulls up?"

Her tone is light, teasing, but it doesn't fail to make him flush. He ducks his head. "If he comes to the door, I'll introduce-"

_knock knock knock_

Dean's attention shoots towards said door, and if it weren't for the sudden burst of adrenaline that just rushed through him, he would have thrown something at his mom to snuff out her laughter.

Like the cardigan. Or a shoe.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" she asks, that much too amused lilt continuing to tug at her words.

He groans, waving her off, then slowly crosses the small foyer.

_knock knock knock_

Heaving in a steadying breath, he grabs the door handle, and pulls.

Then immediately exhales in a sputter.

"Hi," he says. At least he thinks he does, as his eyes are initially caught on the excited, vivid blue staring back at him.

Though with a further sweep of his gaze, he finds that Cas is wearing a very flattering dark blue sweater, probably cashmere, he notes, with a drastically lighter shade of button up underneath.

The collar is crisp, precise, where it pokes out of the neck hole. Hugging Cas' tanned-

"Hi," Cas grins as his own gaze rakes over Dean in kind, effortlessly, before it trails beyond his shoulder, to where his mom must still be standing. Watching. _Oh god_. "You must be Dean's mom. I'm Cas. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Dean blinks as Cas steps around him to extend a hand in greeting, which his mom takes with an equally bright smile, and shakes it firmly, twice.

"Mary," she offers, then lets his hand drop. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. And I won't keep you boys with small talk, but, where exactly is it that you two will be going tonight?"

"Oh, um," Cas clears his throat, shifting. "It's called The Repertoire. And it's downtown, on Winston Street. They usually have live music that can go on for a while, but I promise not to have him home too late."

"If he wants to stay through all of it, that is," Cas adds hastily, glancing from his mom to him, then back.

No doubt in attempt to not be so pushy _._

Dean smiles.

"As you've probably already gathered from last night," she says with a wide, nearly uncharacteristic smile (at least as of recently), "Dean doesn't have a set curfew."

"Oh," Cas huffs, then looks down, going so far to ruffle the side of his hair. His cheeks are turning pink. _How freaking adorable_. "I suppose not."

"But I appreciate the sentiment," she continues, and pushes away from the banister. "It's nice to know he'll be in such thoughtful, responsible hands."

Dean ignores the way his own face heats at the other, blatantly inappropriate meaning to those innocently intended words, then chastises himself for even letting the thought cross his mind.

_Get it together!_

"You two have fun," she says, supplying them with a small wave before preparing to make her departure. "I'll leave the porch light on."

And with that, she disappears into the adjoining living room, thus leaving them to stand awkwardly in front of each other.

A beat passes, then two.

"So," Cas says after the next, shifting again. "Should we.."

"Oh, yea," Dean nods. "Of course."

He pats his back pocket to make sure he has his wallet, which he does, so he leads them through the door.

And on to what he kinda sorta feels like may be something a bit more.

A bit bigger than just food and live music.

At least, he _hopes_ that's what he's feeling.

Oh man, please let that be what he's feeling.

Please _please_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh you guys, you are so awesome!! Thank you so much for all your amazing comments/feedback. It's making this move right along, super smoothly! You're the best :D


	9. Chapter 9

The Repertoire isn't at all what Dean was expecting it to be.

I mean, sure, it's cozy and eclectic and exactly what you would assume from a local indie cafe/venue, but it's so much _more_ , too.

It's got tall ceilings that give the illusion that the space is a lot larger than it actually is, which is great for the acoustics, and old, exposed brick walls that are lined with various stringed lights among framed band and movie posters.

There is a tiny stage set up along the far wall that's more of a glorified platform than anything, with a single mic stand, house drums, guitars and amps.

The tables are high. Those classic but futuristic designed ones that are round at the top, then have tapered bases in a brushed metallic finish. Like nickel. Or brass.

The chair's aren't much different either, except they bolster a support along the back in the form of some fancy warped lattice. Like abstract sculptures.

Needless to say, Dean absolutely _loves_ it here. And they haven't even ordered their food yet.

"Do you hang out here a lot?" he hears himself say once they've settled into a nook off in the corner.

Secluded.

Cas nods. "But we usually grab a booth in the back there."

Dean looks over his shoulder, and spots a row of vinyl clad booths set behind the tables. Each one donning a thick, nicked wood table and Tiffany style lantern hanging over top of it. But instead of your normal patterns or colors, they almost look like tie-dye.

Dean smiles.

"This place is so cool."

"I'm glad you think so," Cas says, and the way he opens his mouth again as if he's going to say something further makes Dean's heart thud erratically in his chest.

Though his next words are cut short when a not at all bubbly voice sounds to Dean's right, startling him.

Then he's level with the deep brown eyes of their waitress. "Can I get ya guys started on some drinks?"

She has double eyebrow piercings, as well as her nostril done, all hoops, and bangs so short Dean's not quite sure if they are even actually considered bangs at this point.

He tries not to stare.

Cas clears his throat, then goes first. "Yea, I'll take the Kuka-Moncha, but instead of the salt around the rim, can I have cane sugar instead?"

"You got it," she says distractedly while scribbling in her order pad. It's fuzzy, with a teal leopard print. "And for you?"

This next part is directed at Dean, and he falters.

Hard.

"Uh," he says, flushing instantly. "I.." a pause, "I'll have," he looks down at the menu again, having suddenly forgotten the name of the bright purple drink he wanted. It was just on the tip of his tongue.

"It was the ah.."

 _Fuck_.

She's staring at him.

He can feel it.

And.. he shouldn't have agreed to do this. He shouldn't have come.

He _knows_ better than to-

"I think you were saying the Grape-A-Lation looked good, right?" Cas says, leaning over their table a bit to peek at Dean's menu. Even though he's got his own right there in front of him.

Dean glances up, and is abruptly grounded by the softness in Cas' gaze.

It roots him on the spot.

He clears his throat, if a bit awkwardly. "Ah, yea.. the Grape-A-Lation. I uh.. I've never been here before, so.."

Understanding flits across their waitresses' face in an instant, and she even goes so far as to smile.

More of a smirk, really, but a smile nonetheless.

"Totally understandable. Our menu's kinda overwhelming if you've never been. But don't worry, you'll get it eventually."

With that, she turns to walk away, thus leaving Dean to blink after her.

Until a warm hand slots over his own, that is.

"You alright?" Cas asks, hushed. For Dean's ears only.

He nods. "I just.." then shakes his head. "I'm not good with people. Or.. you know, places in general. So, thank you, for.. um, that."

"Of course," Cas says, so sweetly Dean wants to yank him over by the hand he's squeezing and kiss that gentle smile straight from his lips.

"I was actually kinda worried I might have overstepped, though, to be honest," Cas continues, causing Dean's brow to wrinkle.

"What? Why?"

A shrug.

"Cause I don't want it to seem like I think you can't order for yourself."

Dean huffs. "That thought never even crossed my mind."

"Oh," Cas breathes, then ducks his head. But only briefly. "Well, good then."

Dean smiles.

"Yea, 's real good."

Cas returns it. The corners of his eyes even crinkling up in the most endearing of ways.

Dean's insides go crazy.

He twines their fingers, toying with the side of Cas' finger under his thumb. "So, uhm, what kind of bands are supposed to play tonight?"

"I'm not sure, but I know they're local, so."

Another shrug.

"Sweet."

A blush, then a playful bite of his bottom lip before Cas says, ".. it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stands beside a giant cotton candy machine* ヽ(´▽｀)ノ
> 
> p.s. I took the chapter count off cause, well.. f e e l i n g s


	10. Chapter 10

Ska.

That's what kind of bands are playing: ska.

And Dean is freaking _loving_ it.

Between the burgers, the music, the company and the conversation, he literally can't think of a time he's enjoyed himself more.

Possibly never.

"So," Cas says, after taking a sip from his drink. It's neon green and has a straw that's crimped. Zig zag. "Is it just you and your mom then?"

"Uh," Dean swallows, then wipes his hand on a napkin. "Right now, yea."

Cas nods, making a thoughtful _oh_ with his mouth. "I didn't mean to pry, I just-"

"It's okay," Dean assures, then reaches for his own drink. It's delicious. And encouraging.

Or maybe that's just the way Cas' hand has seemed to find his again.

He smiles.

"My ah.. my dad lost his job, back in Washington."

Cas' face falls. "I'm so sorry. You don't have to-"

"No it's cool," Dean insists. Because it is. "And we were supposed to all move together. As a _family_. But at the last minute he got another job offer, one that requires a lot of travel, and he took it."

Cas frowns, as if he's failing to see the issue in all of this, so Dean elaborates. "Without talking to my mom about it first."

"Ah," Cas breathes in understanding while nodding. "I can see how that could be a problem."

"Yah," Dean agrees, then pops another fry in his mouth with his free hand. "Not to mention my brother just up and decided to travel with him. So he wouldn't be 'alone'."

"Wait," Cas says abruptly, shaking his head in a swift motion. "You have a brother?"

Dean nods. "Older. That pissed my mom off too. Majorly. But they'd already closed on the house here so we couldn't just.. _not_ come."

A beat passes, then Cas asks, carefully, "How are you taking it?"

Dean blinks.

He hadn't..

"I uh.." he ponders, then shrugs. "I'm handling it."

"It's okay if you _aren't_.. you know."

Cas' words are low, and well-meaning, so Dean looks down, suddenly sheepish. "I know."

"So were you and your brother close?" Cas says after a pause.

Another pause, then, "Yea."

"How long has it been since you've seen him?"

Dean's mouth screws up as he thinks. "Like a month? Month and a half maybe?"

Cas whistles sympathetically, then squeezes Dean's hand. "That sucks."

A nod.

"Yup."

"Do you at least talk, or have any contact with him? With them?"

Dean smiles, though it's a bit pained. Forced. "They're in Europe right now, and the long distance is crazy expensive so.. aside from a few postcards, no."

And.. fuck.

He can practically _feel_ Cas oozing a counter sadness that he's no doubt siphoning straight from the source itself, and Dean can't help but take that as a punch to the gut because of _course_ he'd end up sabotaging his literal first date ever by laying on his sob story, strong and hard.

He pinches his eyes shut, and wills himself not to cry.

 _Do not cry. Do not fucking do it_.

"Hey," Cas says suddenly, hushed;  _gentle_. His voice is much closer now, and he's twining his fingers between Dean's own. "Do you wanna go get some fresh air? It's getting kinda stuffy in here anyway. They'll hold the table for us if we want, until we come back."

Dean blinks through the sting threatening to consume his vision, utterly struck by the _we_ in there, and glances across the table from under his lashes.

He's met with a million things all at once, but the most prominent of those things is an unmistakable sense of calm.

Stability.

How does Cas _do_ that?

Shit.

"Yea, ah," Dean huffs with a nod, slightly shaken by Cas' effect. "That sounds great."

He's rewarded with a smile in turn, then hops down from his chair to follow Cas to the hostess station, where Cas let's their waitress know they'll be back in a few.

Then, they slip outside, and it's not until they're rounding the front walk does Dean realizes Cas has yet to let go of his hand.

He's still gripping on tight. Securely. So Dean is nearly grinning when they take a seat on the shabby, tagged wooden bench beneath the large picture window.

Then he all but soars internally when Cas angles towards him so that their knees are touching. Intimate.

"So, has anyone ever told you how insanely hot your glasses are?" Cas asks a moment later, completely unprompted. Dean blinks. "You're like, a sub version of Brandon Walsh and I am _so_ into it."

A surprised laugh punches itself out of Dean at the comparison, and he has to bury his burning face in his unoccupied palm hide to his creeping blush. His heart does another somersault. " _Jesus_ , Cas!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was pointed out to me that this was sort of reading like Dean was an only child, and while I had envisioned a sibling of sorts, I still hadn't had anything concrete yet as far as further backstory into Dean's family because I honestly wasn't even expecting this to go past Cas' movie night.
> 
> But, like most of my fics do, it ran away from me, so I was kinda forced to sort out all those vague things I dropped here and there, to connect the dots, and make it legit. Hope this answers a few questions, and satisfies the void of unknown. Still not sure how much farther this particular story will go, but I've got a few more scenarios I'd like to explore, so I suppose only time will tell. :D
> 
> p.s. you guys are RAD AS FREAKING HELL and I am stoked to have such an excited group of readers for this verse, as it's very near and dear to my heart. The year may be 2017, but I am forever living in the 90's ;P


	11. Chapter 11

Is Dean particularly proud of the way his voice falters when he asks if Cas wants to come in as they pull up to the curb outside his house?

No.

Is he immediately over it the second Cas smiles so freaking big it looks like his face is about to split and says that he'd love to?

Yes.

So they exit the car, make their way up the walk, then it's just a matter of finding the right key..

"So, um.." Cas says beside him, shifting from one foot to the other. The porch light is dim, and flickering every couple beats. "We're not going to wake your mom up, are we?"

Dean glances away from his ministrations, and it takes a moment to decipher the question in Cas' eyes. But when he does it, he flushes minutely. "Ah, no," he clears his throat. "She's not here."

Where she is, Dean can only assume either out with her cousin, or having picked up another shift.

He hopes it's the former.

She deserves to have a night out.

Cas nods, and looks down. Dean can see the faint blush coloring his cheeks.

Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

He just.. he seen that the station wagon wasn't in the driveway, and figured-

"Do you need help?"

"Huh?" Dean says, dumbly, then blinks at Cas.

Cas, who is now looking at him again, smiling small and slightly amused. "With the key.."

"Oh," Dean huffs, then flushes full on. He still hasn't unlocked the door. _Jesus Christ_. "No, it's ah, this one."

He slides said chosen key into the lock, turns it til it clicks, and lets them in.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asks once the heavy, paned door is closed behind them.

Because that's what you do when you invite someone in after a date, right?

Offer them refreshments?

"No thank you," Cas says politely, then proceeds to step out of his shoes. Oh, right, there's that too.

Dean smiles, partly at his own social fumbles, but mostly at how considerate Cas is, and follows suit.

Then it's not until they're both standing somewhat awkwardly in their socks that Dean begins to second guess this decision, again, as he doesn't quite know where to go from here.

Do they go sit in the living room? Hang out in the kitchen? Go up to his-

"So, what kind of music do you have?" Cas asks then, not only breaking Dean from his thoughts, but also answering his silent question.

Thank god.

He huffs, both grateful and nervous, then nods towards the stairs. "Lots."

It's a slow climb, one that Dean never imagined he'd be so conscious of taking, but soon enough they're at the top of the landing, crossing the hall, then standing smack dab the middle of his room.

Which still is a complete disaster, mind you, and he wonders for the _third_ time in such a short span what the fuck he was thinking asking Cas to come in.

How embarrassing.

"Uh, sorry about the mess," he says hastily, while rushing to push the pile of discarded clothes loitering the end of his bed, to the floor. "Still haven't had time to.. you know, fully unpack or whatever."

Smooth.

But Cas just snorts behind him. "At least you have a valid excuse. Mine is worse than this and I've lived in that house my whole life."

The corners of Dean's mouth twitch, almost involuntarily, and he glances over his shoulder. "Yea? I didn't peg you as the disorderly type."

Cas shrugs, then turns in place to get a better look at Dean's walls. Specifically, the few posters he's actually had the motivation to put up. Band posters. "It's orderly disorder, if you will."

Dean huffs, straightening to clock Cas' movements. He looks good in this environment. _Dean's_ environment.

Comfortable.

"What does that mean?"

"It appears chaotic to the outside eye, but _I_ know where everything is."

Now, Dean laughs, but before he can respond, Cas adds, "It's a little worse at the moment though, because I couldn't decide on what to wear tonight. So it kinda looks like my closet exploded."

Dean ducks his head, cause relatable, and heats a bit. "Is that so?"

"Mhm," Cas hums, then before Dean can register Cas' voice getting closer, he sees two socked feet step into his line of vision. White, with specked yellow toes. "I wanted to look nice for our first date."

Dean smiles, then peeks up from under his lashes. His heart may be hammering wildly, but he's also sort of emboldened by Cas' unwaveringly strong, yet _gentle_ presence.

"Our first?" he repeats, soft. Then, ".. implying that there will be more?"

Cas huffs, making the cutest face to match it, and reaches out to lightly hook his fingers around Dean's. Delicate. "Um, _yea_. I actually already have an idea for next weekend. If you're available."

Dean grins.

"And want to go, that is," Cas clarifies, and Dean relishes in the easy affection passing between them.

Tumultuous sure, but easy nonetheless.

"I am. And, I _do_."

Cas beams, eyes locking on Dean's for a heady moment before glancing to the wall housing not only a large, sweeping window, but also Dean's stereo and multiple stacks of CD's.

"So.. ah," he clears his throat, "you wanna show me your favorite albums?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so awesome thank you so much for your continuous comments/feedback. Making this a lot of fun!! :D


	12. Chapter 12

"Can we listen to that one again?" Cas asks quietly, breaking the companionable silence that had fallen between them.

Dean lets his head lull against the side of his mattress, and nods. "You liked it?"

Cas smiles, nodding himself. "Yea. It's kinda pretty, you know?"

 _Like you_.

"I do," Dean smiles as well, then reluctantly pulls his gaze away to press the back button.

They're sitting on his floor, leaning against his bed, and while his butt has long since fallen asleep, he can't find it in himself to prompt they move.

Partly because Cas' presence is a solid weight beside him, warm and comforting, but mostly because the thought of suggesting they sit _on_ his bed instead of in front of it sends a hot jolt of mixed emotions right through him.

This is hard.

And new.

And a little bit scary, if Dean is being honest. Which he is.

Always.

A few minutes later though, Cas shifts, obviously attempting to alleviate some of the pressure on his ass, and Dean swallows all of his previous concerns.

Gulping them down while he musters the strength not to stutter as he says, "We can move, if you want."

Cas looks at him for a beat, eyes slightly wide at the implication, then nods again. "Um, yea, that'd be great. I can't feel my left cheek," he jokes.

Amused.

 _Light_.

Dean's lip quirks. "You should have said something."

Cas rolls his eyes. Though it's fond. "Psh, like I want you to feel as if I'm just trying to get you into bed."

They stand.

Slowly, and with matching winces.

"Well, _aren't_ you?" Dean teases. Playfully.

Causing them to both pause the very next instant, clearly surprised by Dean's bold try at banter, and before Dean can even begin to wish for the floor to gobble him up, Cas' face softens to the point Dean's insides legitimately melt.

Liquefy into a pool of fuzzy intoxicants.

"I have wanted to kiss you since that first day you sat at my table," Cas admits.

Dean's heart sputters, then flips, then-

"You have?"

Cas nods. "I wasn't bullshitting before when I said you were beautiful."

"Not that that's the only reason I wanna kiss you," he adds hastily, raising a placating hand for emphasis.

Dean's lips quirk again, and that bold bravado is back. Amazingly.

"Why else?" he hears himself ask, cheeks only heating minutely.

Cas' own cheeks color, then he takes a step forward, shrugging. "You're different."

In spite of himself, of the situation, Dean huffs. "Yah, I'm a _freak_."

"Don't say that," Cas chastises, taking another step. He links their fingers, and Dean's breath hitches at the sudden oozing warmth in his gut. _Home_. "Just because you don't talk a lot doesn't mean you're a freak."

"It weirds people out, though," Dean reasons.

To which Cas replies, "It doesn't weird me out."

"That's cause you're different."

Cas lifts an eyebrow, and Dean huffs again. "Yea, alright, _we're_ different, I get-"

But he's not able to finish the rest of that sentence, because Cas chooses then to lift their joined hands, and kiss the back of his knuckles.

Chaste.

 _Gentle_.

"Can I kiss you, Dean?"

A high pitched ringing sounds in Dean's ears, and he swallows- more of a dry cluck really, then nods.

Frantic, yet minimal. "Yea," he breathes, "y-you can."

Cas smiles, closing the rest of the distance between them, and his lips barely touch Dean's before he asks, in a low whisper, "Have you done this before?"

Dean's pulse gallops, and he shakes his head, once. Their noses bump.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay? At any time," Cas presses, bringing his left hand up to ghost a thumb across Dean's cheek.

Delicate.

And caring.

 _Fuck_ , Dean thinks.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He didn't know it was possible to be this wound up while still somehow being so calm. Content.

He nods, then whispers back, "Okay."

Cas smiles, and Dean can feel it more than actually see it, before that last sliver of space separating them vanishes, and Cas' bottom lip catches on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> First, apologies for the cliffhanger! ◕3◕ This chapter was really hard for me to finally sit down and write for some reason, as inspiration for this fic keeps flying out the window.
> 
> Second, it may be a little bit before I produce the next chapter again, as I'm participating in GISHWHES this year! (woo team!)
> 
> Third, I've been considering starting a sideblog solely dedicated to my writing where I'll post masterlists, drabbles, ficlets, oneshots and answer any questions about current/future stories. As well as post updates so things like this ^^ aren't tagged on at the end of a chapter whenever I get around to posting. Guess I'm just looking to see if anyone would be interested in following something like that? Or if it'd be worth the time/effort? Let me know! :D
> 
> And as always, thank you for your comments/prolonged support/excitement regarding this fic. While it keeps running away from me, it still is fun as shit to write. <3!
> 
> Edit: holy typos! *stares cross-eyed at the screen* derp. ;P let me know if I missed any.


	13. Chapter 13

"You taste like.. cherries," Cas murmurs a few moments later, pulling away only enough to get the words out.

He's holding Dean's face, cradling his jaw, and the subtle possessiveness of the gesture has heat pooling low in Dean's belly.

"I do?" he asks in a daze, breath coming in the form of a stunted hiccup.

Cas smiles, and nods. "I could get addicted to it."

"Jesus fuck.." Dean sighs, letting his eyelids flutter shut, all the while his brain responds with _I could get addicted to_ you.

"I love it when you do that," Cas says next, subtly turning Dean so that the backs of his knees hit the mattress. "It's like I can read every one of your emotions as it crosses your face."

"Oh yea?" Dean hears himself whisper, barely audible over the thundering in his ears. "What am I feeling now?"

"Everything," Cas whispers back, then his lips are crashing into Dean's again. Urgent, yet gentle.

 _Maddening_.

He's only half aware of his butt coming into contact with his bed, and before he knows it, Cas is climbing over top of him. Straddling him.

Canopying him within his arms as he sucks and nibbles along the stretched expanse of Dean's neck.

Dean knows he should probably tell him to stop, not to nip so hard because he's sure to leave a mark, but he can't bring himself to do more than hum at the sensation.

At the very physical reality that this is happening right now.

That he's making out with _Cas Novak_ , in his bed, after having the best (if only) date he's ever had in his entire eighteen years and two months of existence.

"You like that, don't you?" Cas smiles against his skin, tone no more than a teasing lilt as he brushes Dean's earlobe with his nose.

"Yea," Dean admits, uncaring if it makes him sound vulnerable or needy, then he braves a chance and slips his fingers beneath Cas' sweater.

 _Oh my god_.

So.. soft.

His eyelids flutter shut again, and he literally _relishes_ in the shiver that runs through Cas' body. The goosebumps that erupt beneath his fingertips.

"Holy shit," Cas breathes, sounding a bit shell shocked. "You-"

"Dean?" someone calls suddenly, causing them both to freeze and look at each other wide-eyed.

"Dean, hunny, are you guys up there?" his mom's voice trails up the stairs. Coming closer.

"Jesus Christ," Dean spits, sitting up as soon as Cas falls to the side and pulls his shirt down over his very evident erection.

Cas' cheeks are flushed, his lips swollen- _slick_ , and if Dean weren't actually sweating bullets right now, he'd want to take a mental picture to remember forever.

 _He's so freaking gorgeous_.

"I'm sorry," Dean mouths, just as his mom's face appears in the doorway.

"Hi," she says around a smile, gaze flitting between the two of them. Dean flushes impossibly harder. "Have fun at the Repertoire?"

"Uh, yea," Dean coughs while Cas nods beside him and stutters, "A lot."

His mom smiles bigger. "Cool. Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to say goodnight."

Honestly, could this _get_ any more awkward?

Dean thinks it could, so..

"I'm glad you went out tonight," he says by way of attempting to re-direct the conversation.

Her expression softens. "Me too. Night, you two."

Then, she's turning away, to disappear down the hall.

"I am so sor-" Dean starts to say, but is cut off when Cas' mouth finds his again.

Chaste.

And sweet.

And everything Dean has ever imagined a kiss with someone you really care about would feel like.

"It's alright," Cas assures quietly, lips lingering before pressing once more. Soft. "It's probably best anyway. We shouldn't rush into anything."

Dean nods, fighting down the swell of disappointment that threatens to bubble up.

But Cas is there, again, lifting his chin with a single crook of his finger. "Hey."

"Hi," Dean says. Meekly.

Cas smiles. "I mean.. I would honestly love nothing more than to feel every inch of you under my hands, but the last thing I want us to do is get caught up in the moment, and have you regret it."

"I wouldn't," Dean says automatically, then cringes at how needy he ended up sounding anyway.

Cas huffs, kissing him again, and knocks their foreheads together. "I _really_ like you, Dean. And I can definitely see this going somewhere. But I want you to be sure, absolutely, every step of the way."

Dean can't argue with that logic, so he just nods, and earns himself another chaste kiss.

He could really get used to this.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Cas asks, brows furrowing slightly.

"For being so amazing."

Cas huffs, then shakes his head. "You're welcome. But I should say thank you, too."

"What for?"

"For being you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright.. who ordered the deluxe cheese platter?
> 
> lol- I guess this is where that ol' schmoop tag comes into play, huh? Anyways, you guys are amazing and awesome and I cannot express enough how much it means to me to have your ongoing excitement with this. <3
> 
> P.S. I definitely made that side blog, and it's for sure the same handle as here (shereadsthestars) so if you're interested in any updates or fic-ky things, then head on over and give a follow! :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Cas' POV.

"I know I'm really pressing my luck here," Cas says into the receiver as soon as Dean answers on the other end. "But I was wondering if you would maybe wanna hang out today?"

He's sitting in one of the two faded brown chairs on either side of the table housing the phone, and he's got the cord wrapped so tightly around his fingers that he doesn't really realize it until the tips start to tingle.

Nerves.

Dean huffs through the speaker, then playfully asks, "You sure you won't get sick of me?"

"I could never get sick of you," Cas answers immediately.

And it's such an honest, knee-jerk response that he flushes at how utterly _earnest_ it comes out.

Dean is quiet for a moment, seeming to think so as well. Then, "You sure about that?"

"Positive."

He huffs again, and Cas swears he can hear him shake his head. "We'll see."

Now, Cas smiles, because.. "can I come pick you up?"

"Of course," Dean says with an audible smile of his own. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know," Cas shrugs, then releases the cord from his grip. "It's nice out though."

"It is."

"We could go to the Fountains."

There's another pause, a bated one, and Cas flushes once more.

As, Dean clearly knows that's where all of his friends hang out.

Hell, where half the _school_ hangs out.

And where they'll definitely be seen, right there in the open.

"Um.." Dean hesitates. "Won't-"

"Nevermind," Cas says, then slaps a hand over his face. "I mean-"

"Oh, ah-"

"No no no," Cas rushes, scooching to the edge of the chair like Dean will somehow sense his urgency by doing so. "I mean nevermind about going to the Fountains. Not nevermind about hanging out."

"Oh," Dean breathes, and Cas groans internally.

Cause what the fuck is wrong with him?

"I still want to hang out with you," he re-iterates. Idiotically. Because _obviously_. "I don't care if we just end up sitting on your porch. I wanna see you."

Dear god.

Dean sounds kinda like he stifles a snort, then laments with a slight quirk of his voice, "Yea, okay."

"Okay?"

"We can go to the Fountains."

Cas arches a brow at that, squinting towards the windows before him where a sliver of bright sunlight is peering through a crack in the floor length curtains, nearly reaching his socked toe. "Are you.. sure?"

"Yep."

The p pops at the end, and Cas can't help but picturing the way Dean's lips would have rounded to achieve the sound.

Then, in succession, he remembers how soft they are.

How they felt moving against his. Parting beneath-

 _Not now_ , his brain shouts irritably.

Which is quickly followed by the metaphorical berating with a straw broom.

 _Right_.

Focus on the present.

On Dean, waiting at the other end of the line.

"Okay, so.." Cas shifts, clearing his throat. "I'll be there in like, half an hour then?"

"Alright."

"I.." he trails, blinking blankly at the tip of his sock.

Because, he doesn't know what else to say.

He.. what the hell? He _always_ knows what to say.

Especially to Dean.

Has until this very moment.

Why are words suddenly escaping him?

Why is-

"I'll see you in a bit, Cas," Dean says, cutting through his minor panic, saving him, and causing a low thrum to pool in the base of his belly.

"Yea," he agrees distantly, nodding to nothing in particular. "I'll see you in a bit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie! Talk about a mini hiatus, huh? Well, GISHWHES is over, and it was probably one of the funnest weeks I have ever had, in my entire life. My team was incredible, and we shared an experience I will carry with me always. <3
> 
> That being said, I'm trying to get my thoughts to switch back over to writing, and my stories, so updates should (hopefully) start coming regularly again. Also! I've been a bit more active on my fic-related blog, shereadsthestars on tumblr, so if you're interested in following, go ahead and do so :D
> 
> You guys are awesome and I thank you kindly for your feedback/love on this piece. Will work on getting through comments soon!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Cas' POV.

There's an awkward moment when Dean gets into his car that Cas is _positive_ is the result of neither of them knowing the proper greeting here. Seeing as how last night, if it weren't for Dean's mom, they probably would have made it to second base.

At the very least.

But amazingly, Dean swoops in yet again, saving Cas the slight rise of panicky apprehension, and leans across the center console to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His heart flips in tandem, and he doesn't even think about it as he chases Dean's lips, luring a smile out of them of which he relishes against his own.

"Hi," he breathes once Dean fully sits back, reaching for his seat belt as he goes.

"Hey," Dean replies. There's an equally nervous slash ecstatic quirk to it that has Cas glad he's already seated.

"So we ah," Cas starts, absentmindedly trailing a finger across his bottom lip. "That's- that's something we're doing now? With the.."

Dean's eyes widen, and Cas chastises himself yet again for fumbling so epically on his delivery. "I mean-" he shakes his head, "I like it. I just want to make sure that I'm not crossing any lines when I do it myself."

Dean relaxes, minutely, then scratches the side of his head. Shifting his glasses a tad. Cas has the urge to fix them. "Yea," Dean nods. "I mean.. if you're cool with it then.. yea. You won't be crossing any lines."

"Okay," Cas smiles, feeling it from his scalp to his toes. Then, "Did you want to stop anywhere first? Get a tea or a Slurpee?"

Dean grins, and adjusts his glasses. "Can't say no to a Slurpee."

And with that, Cas shifts into drive, then pulls away from the curb.

The windows are rolled down, allowing the fresh, warm afternoon air to pilfer through the small confines of the cab, and within a few minutes they're turning into the nearest 7-Eleven.

It's really telling, you know, of someone's shining personality traits by their choice of Slurpee configuration.

Their _concoction_.

Dean automatically grabs a medium sized cup from the holder, then goes straight to the grape nozzle and pulls the lever, filling the neon flecked plastic halfway.

Then, he scoots two heads over and adds a splash of lime, and Cas watches on in amazement (if not strongly building adoration) as Dean continues along to fill the rest with cherry.

To the brim.

He glances up when he's finished, the hot pink straw nestled sinuously between his teeth.

"Huh?" he asks, completely oblivious.

Cas has to take a steadying breath- a _grounding_ breath, before shaking his head in answer of _nothing_.

He can sense eyes on him as he goes about his own Slurpee ritual, and only finally meets Dean's gaze once it's complete; a tantalizing layering of blue raspberry, cherry, coke, lime, and orange braced in his palm.

No words are exchanged, but there doesn't need to be, because Cas can see a very similar expression dancing on Dean's features that he can feel magnifying from his own.

Dean nods towards the cash registers after a beat, not breaking their line of contact, and Cas tips his head in agreement.

He's got his hand in his back pocket, ready to retrieve his wallet and pay, when Dean knocks him with his elbow and shakes his head.

"I got it," he says, causing Cas' cheeks to flush for some reason.

 _You need to get a grip_.

"Thanks," Cas offers quietly, then lets his hand hang beside him, uselessly, and pointedly does not acknowledge the fact that the cashier is smiling at them.

At their exchange.

A subtle amusement pinching around her eyes.

Cas looks down, then fiddles with the edge of the counter as Dean finishes up.

"You ready?" Dean asks shortly after, standing much closer than absolutely necessary.

Given that they're in a not-at-all busy filling station.

Cas nods. Dazed.

"Yea."

"After you then," Dean retorts, gesturing towards the door, and allowing his fingertips to brush Cas' wrist.

Cas turns, albeit a bit numb from the sudden burst of.. _whatever_  the hell he's experiencing, and crosses the sticky tiles on half-functioning legs.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote this.. super fast. And like.. I'm really enjoying being in Cas' perspective at the moment. So I think going forward, I'll flip between the two. I'll be sure to notate at the top if it's in Cas' or not, though. :D
> 
> And as always, you guys are amazing, and I thank you SO much for.. well, everything, lol. *scratches broken record*


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Cas' POV.

Cas is not surprised in the least that of everyone perched on the stone stairs surrounding the smallest fountain, it's _Deecan_ who spots them first.

Instinctively, Cas reaches out to take Dean's hand, then both relishes in the smile he earns in return from Dean, as well as cowers slightly under the glare from Deecan.

"Hey!" Briana calls to them once they're in clear view. "What's up?"

"Nothin' much," Cas says, stopping just beside Rory's legs, bent at the knees. His sneakers are scuffed and dirty, the lopsided knots draped loosely on the sides. "You guys?"

He's answered with a few shrugs, along with scattered murmured _same_ 's, before Erica's gaze drops to he and Dean's fingers. Still linked.

Still entertwined.

Her lips curl into a knowing smirk. "So," she starts, leaning back to brace her weight on her palms. "That's a thing now, is it?"

She punctuates her question with a pointed jab of her chin, and with it, directs every other set of eyes to the clasp as well.

Cas flushes.

And Dean shifts.

"Yea," Dean responds before he's even given the chance. "Is that.. a problem?"

It's said so boldy and matter-of fact, that Cas huffs in tandem with the eruption of catcalls, then glances over to give Dean an affectionately incredulous squint.

"Who the hell are you, and what have you done with the Dean I went out with last night?"

Though there's a light dusting of pink on the very high of Dean's cheekbones, he still shrugs a single shoulder while quirking the most adorable of smiles.

Dimples included.

 _Thank god_.

"I don't know, I think he met this really great guy who kinda makes him feel like it's okay to come out of his shell a bit."

Cas stares, just as a few of his friends do, and blinks. Stunned. Because that is _not_ the answer he was expecting.

At all.

In any way.

He opens his mouth, something no doubt equally sappy or embarrassing on the tip of his tongue, when a disgruntled snort sounds from his left.

"Please," Deecan murmurs, mostly under his breath, but it still causes a twist to form in the pit of Cas' stomach.

And, you know, Cas _really_ did not plan on punching one of his longest friends today, but is he seriously about two seconds away from doing it.

Thankfully though, to what's probably no shocker to anyone by now, Dean steps in _a-fucking-gain_ , and yanks him forward.

Pulling him along, in front of the lowest occupied step.

.. all while flippantly tossing over his shoulder, "Hope you guys don't mind, but ah, I was kinda hoping to turn this into date number two. Y'know, seeing as it's so gorgeous out and all."

"And," Dean then pauses, however briefly in front of Deecan, to gesture at his throat around the sweating sides of his Slurpee cup, all while the chorus of coo's and dramatic _awe_ 's flow behind them. "You might wanna get a lozenge or something for that, sounds like you're comin' down with a bad case of a shitty fucking attitude."

Cas has never barked a clap of laughed so loudly in his life, and there isn't a doubt in his mind that if he wasn't already well on his way to falling hard for Dean, he would be now.

Hands down, no questions asked.

This is the guy for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally.. incapable.. of writing.. non-sappy.. Stuff.
> 
> Literally, incapable.
> 
> *hides head in a bush* for fucks sake.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Cas' POV.

"What?" Cas asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his free hand. The other currently laced with Dean's.

Dean shrugs, his shoulder lifting to reveal an indent in the lush grass. "You're kinda glowing."

"Oh my god," Cas huffs, then attempts to duck his head.

To hide his creeping blush.

But it's of no use because no matter where he looks, Dean can see him. As they're lying on their backs, side by side, and so close they barely have to move more than an inch or two to kiss.

Which they have been doing by the way.

 _A lot_.

"You are though," Dean laughs, squeezing his fingers, before shielding his own eyes. "You're really tan. And the sun is super bright. So."

Cas snorts. "Are you really trying to make me blush out in public?"

"You made me blush out in public," Dean counters.

To which Cas tips his head with a nod, "Touche."

Dean grins, all ease and warmth and when a comfortable silence settles between them, neither of them try to combat it.

Not until the crowd has long since thinned out, and the sun has begun to dip behind the horizon.

"You wanna go grab a bite to eat?" Cas asks, nowhere near ready to say goodbye yet.

Even though they have school in the morning.

And even though Cas knows he's probably coming off as clingy.

But he doesn't care.

He just wants to be with Dean.

 _Dean Dean Dean_.

"Yah," Dean says, pulling himself up with a slight grunt.

Cas tracks the movement, as well as the sound, and his cheeks heat just the slightest.

"Chinese?"

Dean's lip pouts in thought, so Cas pushes himself up, throwing another suggestion out. "Pizza?"

Now Dean's eyes spark, and Cas can't help but beam right back. "There's a place close to the Rez that sells by the slice. Wanna go there?"

Dean acquiesces that he does. So they stand, gather their empty Slurpee cups, and make their way back to Cas' car.

They totally hold hands the entire way to Lucchino's.

And Cas totally has butterflies because of it.

He may or may not lift Dean's fingers to his mouth to kiss at his knuckles before they exit the car.

And he may or may not flush from his hair down to his toes when Dean opens the door for him, then guides him through with a gentle touch to the dip of his back.

Dean pays again, shutting Cas up with a quick glance that garners no argument. And when they meander once more to the tiny brown two door parked near the front of the lot, it's with both matching mini steaming pizza boxes and smiles.

They eat on a park bench a few blocks from Dean's house, and when it gets to the point where Cas really can't drag their time together on any longer, he clears his throat.

Dean looks up from his pie.

"So, ah," Cas starts, suddenly more uncertain than he's been all day. "You- would you maybe wanna ride with me tomorrow? To school?"

Dean's lip quirks, and he glances down at the greasy box in his lap. "Won't that be out of your way?"

"Not at all, it's-"

Dean meets his gaze, questioning but firm, so Cas pauses, then redirects his answer.

"Okay, yes, but I don't mind."

"Really," he adds when Dean still doesn't seem appeased.

Dean is quiet for a moment, then lets his attention wander back to the greasy box. "Won't that- I mean, what about, you know.."

Cas frowns.

Because, no, he _doesn't_ know.

"What about what?"

Dean's shoulders slump, and he works at his bottom lip, like he's trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say without it sounding a way he doesn't want it to sound.

Then, it clicks for Cas.

"You're worried about what everyone will think."

Dean glances up at him, and nods.

Slowly.

And it makes something deep, _deep_ within Cas shutter; wrack.

Because despite the newfound confidence Dean had been exhibiting all day, he's still the same sweet, soft, quiet boy Cas began falling for the second he sat beside him three weeks prior.

He doesn't even think, just swings one knee up on the bench between them and reaches forward.

Taking hold of Dean's face in his palms so Dean has no choice but to look at him. To read the expression pouring straight from his eyes as he says, "I literally give zero shits what anybody in that school thinks. All I know is that I feel like I want to be with you twenty-four seven, whether it's in the form of us dating, hanging out, or just being friends, I don't care. I just want to be around you. With you."

Dean's next inhale comes shakily, uneven, and Cas is ready to release his grip when Dean's own comes up steady, keeping him in place.

"What-" is about all he manages before Dean's lips are crashing into his, causing his world to tip sideways.

"Okay," Dean says after a gasp of air. "Okay."

"Okay what?" Cas asks, needing to be sure. If not of anything else, than at least just this one thing.

"Okay to everything."

Then their mouths are meeting again, and Cas isn't certain who delved in first, but in all honesty, he isn't too concerned.

Not when Dean's tongue is sliding against his the way it is.

Or as deft fingers twine through the fine hairs at the base of his neck, yanking him closer.

Nope.

 _Not concerned a damn bit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... struggled with this. A lot. Because for some unfathomable reason, no matter what, I _cannot_ produce chapters for this story despite how badly I enjoy this verse/can see the scenes going.
> 
> So! I'm posting this without combing through to fine-tune the editing, as I'm certain I'll just end up deleting it all for the literal eighth time. (I'm not even joking this went in so many directions it's ridiculous).
> 
> Apologies for any errors or over-use of works/expressions. I just had to get it up so I can hopefully move along with this piece. That being said I'll probably go back and tweak things after the fact but for now, this is what it'll be lol. :D
> 
> p.s. quick shout out to my friend Erin for pushing & supporting me when in a writing rut, for encouraging me to work at it til it became what I wanted. You're the best and I <3 you!


	18. Chapter 18

The last thing Dean imagined his Monday morning would be like while preparing for school the previous _Friday_ morning was sitting on his front step, waiting for Cas' car to turn into view.

Cas, his _boyfriend_.

Because- what?

Surely he'd been launched to an alternate reality. As there is no other plausible explanation to the current phenomena happening.

So he sits, and he waits, and he tries to un-clench his incredibly knotted stomach.

Where is all that exuberant confidence from yesterday at, huh? Where is that addictive pull of making Cas flush and flounder and heat to a soft pretty pink?

Dean would be willing to give his left nu-

_beep beep_

He glances up, and there, on the shrubby, gangled curb of his modest two story, is Cas.

Smiling at him from behind the passenger side window.

He waves, and Dean's insides completely shatter.

"Hey," he says as he slips into the warm, welcoming bucket seat.

"Hi," Cas replies, happy grin still in place before he dips across the console, and kisses the corner of Dean's mouth. "How are you?"

Dean smiles back, cheeks tingling as if the sun had just come out from behind the clouds to caress them. "Better now. You?"

"Same."

The drive to school is the same as it is whenever Dean's mom is able to drop him. Or when he walks slash rides his bike.

Or, he should say, the _route_ is the same. Because he never holds his mom's hand, and on his bike, there's no one there to trace his knuckles gingerly with the pad of their thumb.

Cas parks in the middle of the lot, Dean notices, between a big, looming SUV, and shiny white Jeep.

It's almost comical too, the way his Pinto slots between the them; seemingly overshadowed, and wholly hidden from sight.

So of course when Dean goes to pull away to unbuckle, Cas squeezes tighter. Keeping him in place.

"What?" Dean asks, brows knitting in what he hopes isn't an unappreciative or offensive manner.

"I-" Cas starts, then pauses, righting himself, and clears his throat. "I just want to make sure that you're okay with, you know.. us going in there, like this."

He holds up their joined hands for emphasis, and Dean honestly can't help the way his heart does an embarrassing putter right before flipping.

Into oblivion.

"I am."

And it's kind of funny, in a way, that almost none of the conviction just voiced was present during his internal monologue of alternate realities a mere ten minutes ago.

Cas smiles, all gentle and sweet, but still doesn't let go. "You're sure?"

Dean nods.

"Because I meant what I said last night. About not caring what anyone thinks. I want you to know that- to not forget it."

"I haven't. And I won't."

"Good."

Now, Dean smiles, just as gentle, and he brings Cas' hand to his mouth, then kisses the middle tendon. "Thank you."

"For what?" Cas questions, tipping his head ever so slightly to the side. Dean huffs at how insanely adorable it is.

Especially with how Cas' eyes are still puffy with sleep.

"For being so amazing."

Cas snorts, and shakes his head. "Not only do you make me blush in public but now you're really going to send me off to endure the school day with butterflies?"

_Flip flip flip._

"Well, obviously."

The twin dimples plus crinkles surrounding those sleepy blue eyes is enough to make Dean wish he had his Polaroid with him, just so he could keep a snapshot of this moment forever in his back pocket.

"Then it's only fair, right?" Cas says.

"What is?"

"That you have butterflies too."

"Wha-"

But the rest of Dean's inquiry is snipped off with a swift woosh by Cas' smooth lower lip catching onto his.

Pulling it.

 _Devouring_ it.

Preceding the gesture by a slip of tongue.

Then an engulfing of tongue.

Which is finished up with a light nip, in time with the previously seeking fingers that were tangled in his hair ghosting across his neck to land at the bolt of his jaw.

"C'mon," Cas whispers when he pulls away, gaze locked on Dean's as Dean tries to gather his breath. To clear the fog blurring his vision. "We're gonna be late."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind words last chapter. I honestly cannot express enough how much they all mean to me; how much they help.
> 
> So I sort of went ahead and did the same thing this chapter. I got the writing bug so just ran with it. Seems as if that's the only way I'll actually get updates out lol.
> 
> Also, I'll be catching up on comments soon! <3


	19. Chapter 19

Whispers.

Whispers filling Dean's ears and tickling his skin, since the moment he and Cas walked through the school's main entrance.

They followed him down the hall. Into his classes. Behind the bathroom stall. And even tagged along as he made his way into the cafeteria early afternoon.

They both stopped and intensified when he met Cas in line; Cas already adorned with two trays, waiting for Dean with a wide, knee weakening smile.

And when they parted after lunch with chaste touches to eithers' arms, it was with the quiet knowledge that they'd see each other in fifty minutes.

Get to sit beside one another for the duration of their writing class.

It would be torture, Dean knew, to be so close yet so unable to reach out and _grasp_.

To kiss that favorite little dimple of his that inverts when Cas smiles crookedly at him.

To brush his fingers along the lean tendons of Cas' delicate hand, then wind around to hold securely a thin wrist.

To pull Cas in with-

"Hey."

He glances up and, his cheeks lift skyward. "Hi."

"Thanks for saving me a seat," Cas says as he slips into the empty chair at their table.

The one he's sat in all semester.

Far before Dean even knew he'd be attending this school.

So Dean snorts, and rolls his eyes fondly. "Yea, of course. It was no problem."

Cas shoots him an equally fond smirk, then goes about unpacking his bag.

The movements and mannerisms of which Dean watches closely.

As he does every day, but for very obvious reasons, it's different today.

Their teacher comes in soon after, and it's not until about half way into the period that Cas taps Dean's forearm with the end of his pencil, then scoots him a jaggedly torn piece of paper.

_wanna come over after school?_

Warmth erupts through Dean and he shifts, stealthily sneaking the paper within the crook of his elbow.

Angled enough to write a response.

_yes_

Even out of the corner of his eye, he can see Cas smile, so in another unfurled bout of weird, rare confidence, he scribbles something else underneath his answer before scooting it back.

_will your parents be home?_

Cas' face reddens incrementally, and Dean is just about to bask in the effect he's had, when a strong clearing of throat bursts their tiny bubble.

"I sincerely hope that whatever it is you and Mr. Novak are conversing over via note, it pertains to your assignment, Mr. Winchester."

Dean flushes, and glances to the front of the class. Just as every single set of eyes in the room turn to hone in on them.

"I, uh," Dean stumbles, searching for a way to play this off as entirely school-related while his efforts are glared upon with an un-manicured arched brow. "We.."

"It is," Cas says, straightening his shoulders to no doubt cover the way his voice falters. "We were just making plans to study later. Because I'm having some trouble solidifying one of my outlines."

Their teacher's eyes narrow impossibly more, but it's obvious she can't argue or dispute Cas' excuse, so she relents and waves a dismissing hand at them. "Surely it's settled now then, so please, for the remainder of the hour, concentrate on your assignments."

"We will," they both say in tandem, then shift almost as if connected by a zillion thin invisible threads.

It takes a good ten minutes for Dean to finally feel as if his face has returned to normal temperature, and another five for the lingering sensation of wondering gazes on him to dissipate, but he manages to finish his work with a few moments to spare.

A few moments to spend tracking Cas' lead scrawling in short, neat lines across his paper.

Cas must sense the attention, because not only does the corner of his mouth quirk, but he also moves his leg, so that it's resting firmly against Dean's.

Foot to foot, calf to calf, and knee to knee.

It's intent is clear, as well as it's promise, so Dean responds the only way he's able to, and slides his arm over the scuffed laminate, until his elbow is pressing into Cas'.

 _Me too_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Struggle continues, lol.
> 
> It's been incredibly hard for me to reign in my thoughts and attention lately to focus enough to get an update out, so apologies if they seem stinted. Or short.
> 
> Also thanks to my friend Erin for being my Writing Feels buddy, and for reading over the snippets I've managed to produce then give me her feedback. You're the best!
> 
> And thank you to all of you, as always, for sticking with this story, as well as with me. It means the actual world, so, yeah. You're amaze. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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